A New Happiness
by FantasticJackie
Summary: AU. Post DH. This is my version of the epilogue: what I thought it would be along the lines of...


**_A New Happiness  
_**_By Jackie_

**Author's Notes:** Written for the RT Challenge August Ficathon. I suppose this is AU. It was supposed to be humorous, but then an alternate bunny took over, and now… Well, I'm at least thankful for a certain pair of Weasleys. ;) Many thanks to the members of RTC that provided me with the little bits of information about the book and trees.

_23 July, 2007_

A boy, around nine years old, clutched tightly to an opened black book with gold lettering on the spine, the paper cover abandoned somewhere inside the packed house. He was seated on a bench in the backyard garden, eyes glued to the words on the pages. Laughter and snatches of cheerful conversation floated through the opened French doors, mingling with the chirps of birds and buzzing of dragonflies. He ignored the distractions, eyebrows furrowed and head bowed with turquoise hair falling into his aquamarine eyes. He'd chosen blue for the party today because it was his favourite colour, though he couldn't be sure why anyone inside was celebrating.

They'd received their free copies of the book two days beforehand – one for each member of the family. Silence had reigned in the house for hours on end while all three hurriedly read through the pages. His parents had raced each other, but it wasn't really a contest; the boy couldn't understand his mother's willingness to lose the bet. He didn't know what it had entailed in the first place, but she had only pretended to lament her loss.

He himself had taken his time to finish the book, preferring to play with his friends – visiting the Potters and Weasleys. – Speaking of whom, he needed to avoid Victoire, now that he'd finished reading that epilogue. He didn't want _anyone_ getting _any_ ideas. How could the author just _assume?_ He liked Victoire well enough, but she was just a friend! Not to mention that they were _only_ eight and nine years old.

He noticed that the words on the page in front of him had become blurry during his track of thought, and he blinked to bring them back into focus. As much as he was irritated by the author's attempt at Seeing on his behalf – in print, no less, for the literal world to read – the sentence before him was the one that had most captured his attention and was what really upset him.

A familiar voice called him from behind. "'Lo, Ted!"

"'Lo, Fred," the boy replied without looking behind him. He grinned, knowing what would come next.

"We _will_ figure out how you do that," said an identical voice.

Teddy shrugged his shoulders, looking up impassively at the other twin, accustomed to seeing the missing ear on one side. "I can't convince you it's just a lucky guess?"

"Not a chance," he said, and he ruffled Teddy's blue hair affectionately before dropping onto the bench beside him. "'Lo, Ted."

"'Lo, George."

"What are you doing out here by yourself, then?" he asked, making a show of leaning over to see.

"Ahh!" Fred said, his eyes lighting up. "Still reading."

"No, I finish-"

"So it _is_ that you're avoiding our little Victoire!" he exclaimed laughing.

"Teddy and Victoire sitting in a tree…" George sang, nudging Teddy who was blushing.

Fred laughed again at his reaction, straightening up and throwing his head back. Teddy craned around Fred's legs to peer inside to be sure no one – specifically a certain Weasley – came out to see what had happened. No one seemed to mind, though. Kingsley and Professor McGonagall continued on their conversation at the door threshold, and beyond them, he could make out his parents conversing with his godfather, Neville, and a pregnant Hermione. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were laughing about something with Bill, Seamus, and Lee Jordan. In the corner, his grandmother was giving Ron a stern talking-to… And there was Victoire, looking unsure between her parents and James and Rose who were on the stairs, getting into some sort of mischief. He leant back, rigid and hiding behind the girl's uncle.

"She hasn't read the book!" Fred said with a wink after he'd recovered himself and plopped down on the other side of him. "You're safe for a few days, at least."

"Ah, but not from us!" George said elbowing Teddy.

Fred was all grins enjoying the teasing, but… "Ah, leave him alone, George," he obviously had something else on his mind. "So!" he said excitedly, changing topics abruptly. "What do you think? Me as a tragic hero!"

"Oh, it was tragic," George drawled with a sarcastic glance to his brother. "Bloody pitiful."

"_Me_ pitiful?" Fred said incredulously, and then pinned Teddy with a knowing stare. "He was bawling when he read it. I thought the flat was gonna flood."

"I only teared up a bit!" George said defensively. "You're my brother and best mate – have been my whole life. I'd be heartless if I didn't." He whapped Teddy on the arm lightly to gain his visual attention – he had been staring back at the book. "_He_ was ranting up a storm at first; couldn't believe she'd offed him. It wasn't 'til Bill started calling him a tragic hero and Charlie lamented his meagre mention of attending the wedding that he started acting this way. All proud and asking everyone's opinions."

"She gave me a heroic death! I just needed some time to reflect and put things in perspective."

"You were killed by Hogwarts, mate," George deadpanned pointedly. "That's not heroic. It's pathetic."

"Caused by one of the Death Eaters-" Fred began to argue back.

"It was stupid," Teddy said quietly, looking down, silencing both twins. He sensed the two look at each other over his head, imagining confused or surprised expressions on their faces.

"You don't like that she changed the story," George said knowingly.

"Understandable," Fred added. "What with your parents and all."

Teddy flinched, but forced himself to put the haunting sentence out of mind and looked up, head turning to regard both of them as he spoke. "Well, that's not how it happened, is it?"

George tilted his head in thoughtful concession. "No, but it made it a bit more dramatic."

"I think the real version is dramatic enough," he insisted stubbornly.

"Well, I guess she didn't," Fred said with a shrug. "It's just a book, anyway."

"So that's why she did it, then? To make it more entertaining?" he asked, frustration leaking through his tone.

"I expect so," Fred answered, shrugging again. "It's only a book, though; nothing to fret."

"Fiction," George added cheerily.

"But it's something to celebrate?" Teddy challenged.

"Well, yeah!" Fred said brightening again. "The story's done, and the muggles know it now, even if it's not 100 accurate. They only think we're fictional characters, anyway."

"Yeah, but-" he began refuting.

"Here comes your dad, now!" George said thumping him on the back. "Perfect timing."

"Uh oh…" Fred said, and Teddy saw the reason: Victiore was following his father outside.

"We'll hold her off, mate," George said with a wink standing.

"You can thank us later," Fred finished for his brother, following. "Good luck with your dad."

Teddy watched them walk towards the young girl, passing his father with an, "Afternoon, Remus!"

"Well, if it isn't our favourite niece!" George bellowed excitedly.

"You say that to Rose, too," she replied haughtily in a slight French accent picked up from her mother. "Have you seen-?"

"Rose?" Fred interrupted. "No! We haven't! Not the entire time we've been here!"

"But you-" she protested.

"Show us the way!" George insisted, leading her back inside.

Teddy's eyes fell on his approaching father who offered him a small smile. But Teddy felt anger rise in his chest. His dad could have warned him _at least_. So he shook his head, stood from the bench, and walked towards the large oak tree a little ways ahead of him leaving the book behind.

---

Remus had watched his son from inside the house through the window while he enjoyed the Deathly Hallows party he and his family were hosting. He had watched as Teddy closed the back cover and stared off for a few seconds before reopening it hurriedly and turning back a few pages in the last chapters.

He knew the number of the page Teddy had been staring at, and he knew the paragraph and the sentence.

Whether his decision to leave Teddy alone for a little while to let the news sink in was a good one, he did not know, but he was at least grateful to Fred and George for attempting to cheer him up. Unfortunately, judging by the cold glance and shake of the head he'd just received, they had not succeeded.

He slowed his steps as he approached the bench and paused, looking down at the opened book. A gentle breeze was turning the pages, and he reached down to stop their fluttering.

Reliving the darkest hours of the war through reading the book had been much harder than Remus had thought it would be. So far removed were they from those harrowing times that it was difficult to really think about them as actually having happened, to immerse himself in the memories and emotions of everything they went through. Through every battle and loss and the suspense in between. Through the death-defying, impossible escapes and the constant feeling of dread and never knowing _if_.

"You finished," he said quietly, picking up and closing the book and following his son to stand under the oak tree. Teddy refused to look at him, staring up into the branches above them instead. Remus ran his fingers along the thick spine of the book and waited for Teddy to speak. A raucous chorus of laughter broke the silence abruptly; he picked his wife's laughter out of the others and smiled softly.

Finally, Teddy said, "Yeah…" His tone was sad and quiet. Remus and Dora had expected this, but they had both decided against telling their son anything. They wanted him to read the whole book because it was mostly true, and they thought it important he be aware of what the books contained since their family and closest friends were in them. If they had told him, they knew he would have never picked up the book again.

Remus looked down at his son. "Are you all right?"

"Are you?" he retorted angrily.

"I wasn't," he answered honestly. "But we – your mother and I discussed it, and now I am."

He turned furiously and glared at him. "But she-she…!" He didn't finish the sentence. "You and Mum...!"

"I know."

"You could have at least warned me! You finished two days ago!" he protested.

"We did tell you that not everything in the books would be accurate," he said gently.

Teddy regarded him with a sarcastic stare. "You mean you didn't really leave Mum for a year because you thought she was too good for you? And again after you got married?"

Remus felt his face and neck flush instantly. "She did include that, didn't she?" he said, avoiding his son's expectant gaze and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Not the way Mum tells it."

He turned abruptly and gave Teddy a guarded stare, trying to read what he was thinking, but it was like looking at himself in the mirror: he couldn't read a thing behind the boy's impassively set expression. Dora often grumbled to Remus about that particular trait he had passed on.

"No…Definitely not," he said with a tentative wry smile. "But I'm grateful she didn't," he murmured.

"Yeah, well…" A little amusement leaked through his features. "I would be, too," he sniggered.

"I love your mother very much!" Remus said earnestly.

"Oh, I can tell," Teddy deadpanned, raising a turquoise eyebrow.

"Can you?"

Blanching and eyes glittering mischievously, he said, "I saw you in the kitchen with Mum yesterday-"

Remus hurriedly covered Teddy's mouth with his hand, grinning widely. "That's enough on that subject."

Teddy turned his head away from his father's hand, grinning as well. "Yeah… I don't wanna remember. I'll never use that counter-"

"Take a lesson from it, then: Don't watch your mother and me in the kitchen."

"Or anywhere…" he muttered, shivering slightly.

"Now you've got it," Remus chuckled.

He rolled his eyes and peeled a small piece of bark off the tree. But Teddy's amusement faded away, and the frown reappeared on his face as he returned to the issue they had been discussing. "Why did she even interview me?" he asked kicking the ground awkwardly. "I don't remember a thing about anything she was interested in. And then she made all that stuff up at the end…"

Remus smiled as the wind teased his mostly grey hair. "You were still part of the story."

"A small part," he mumbled.

"A very large part," Remus corrected immediately, and Teddy regarded his father with curiosity. "Miss Rowling didn't spend very much time on you, but I expect it's because she was held by certain restraints. I don't think you realize how much your birth affected everyone in the Order. – How much hope you gave everyone, and especially Harry. And of course, your mother and I…" He trailed off, unable to finish the thought aloud. How could he wrap the feelings he and Dora shared about Teddy into words? The new purpose he'd given them in such a dark hour…?

"Well it wasn't anything _I_ did," he said shrugging.

He smiled. "Don't think of it that way."

"How should I think of it, then?" He looked sidelong to his father.

"It was who you were, not what you did that was important, in a war that was fought to protect the very ideals you embodied," he answered softly, staring ahead through the fence and into the past. "You were who we were fighting for, _what_ we were fighting for. The war was about people, not the pitting of purebloods against muggles and muggle-borns and half-bloods... It was who we were. You symbolised the future we all so desperately wanted. You made our hope real, solidified our purposes for fighting." He blinked, coming out of his half reverie and looked down at his son. "Do you understand?"

He seemed to still be taking in Remus' answer, but he nodded anyway.

"And by just that, Teddy," he continued, smiling again, "You really did do quite a lot."

He again nodded, still thinking. "But…" Teddy furrowed his brows together. "I still don't understand why she… did _that_. Didn't you and Mum stand for something? Like… who you were like who I was?" His phrasing was awkward, but Remus still understood what he meant.

He inhaled deeply and then exhaled before answering, considering his phrasing carefully. "She liked you. - Us. A lot."

"What?" he asked, confusion etched on his young face. Clearly, he had expected the answer to be completely opposite.

"Well, I expect you reminded her of Harry in some ways, and your mother and I of Lily and James. She wanted to bring out those traits. – They're very good traits."

"So?"

"It was a compliment, Teddy. To our family and to you." He smiled again, a little forced. "She made you the next Harry Potter."

"Fred and George said she did it to make the story more dramatic."

He nodded. "Yes, that too."

He frowned, thinking hard. His blue eyebrows pressed together forming a crevice between them in a way that strikingly resembled Dora. Remus hoped this answer would satisfy him so he'd not be bitter about the books. It was the truth, - the part he was comfortable sharing with him, at least, that excluded certain issues between him and Dora the author had read between the lines - he knew it to be, but-

"But…" Teddy interrupted his musings, and Remus gave him his full attention. Teddy shrugged his shoulders and searched for something to watch as a stall, but then looked directly at his father. "I'd rather be like you."

Remus Lupin was not a sentimental man, nor was he easily surprised by anything considering the life he'd led and the woman he'd married. But he had not at all expected that to pass through his son's lips. In that moment as he locked gazes with young Teddy Lupin, the corners of his eyes twitched fiercely and a large lump settled almost painfully in his throat as his heart gave a particularly hard thud.

"Teddy, I…" he began, voice feeling hoarser than it had in years. "That's…"

"Teddy! Remus!" Nymphadora called interrupting the moment and causing father and son to turn to see her trotting up to them. "I've been looking everywhere for you two."

"To Harry!" everyone inside shouted in unison quite suddenly, diverting their attention again.

"Why?" Remus asked a little concerned, catching her eye quickly. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she started to say coming to stand beside her husband.

"Here they are!!" Kingsley's voice boomed, and the crowd within the house began to pour into the backyard.

"I heard that," Dora whispered in his ear and kissed him there.

"Heard what?" he asked, thoughts more centred on the steady stream of people pouring from the house and encircling them.

"Teddy," she answered simply.

Remus looked and found his son now standing with James on the inner ring of the circle, giving the younger boy a sceptical stare as he animatedly told a story. Victoire, having escaped her plotting uncles, appeared on his other side, causing him to stiffen significantly. Remus laughed lightly – and noticed that the circle was forming solidly _around_ him and Dora.

"Thought I'd save you from certain embarrassment," she said still speaking close to his ear, though no longer facing him.

"Embarrassment?" he asked looking to her.

"You were about to cry, Lupin," she said, mischief lighting her turquoise eyes. She'd come to prefer turquoise since Teddy had chosen it.

He thought to deny it, but then he didn't see any point. "I was. You heard what he said?"

She smiled softly and pushed the grey strands of hair out of his eyes. "I heard what he said, and I'm glad he said it."

Someone shoved Fred into the centre of the circle with Remus and Dora. – He turned and glared at Bill.

"And now a toast to the tragic heroes and all the tears they caused us!" Kingsley shouted, raising his glass and grinning broadly. "At least you know we'll all cry when you _really_ pass on."

Half of the crowd laughed, including Remus, while the others gaped, fighting the urge, but no one drank.

"That's the worst toast I've ever heard!" Dora exclaimed, but she was grinning just as much as Remus.

"Well, I think it was brilliant!" Fred said raising his glass higher. "Thanks, King! Cheers!" He downed his glass in one gulp, and seeing that it was okay, everyone released their laughter, glasses tinkling, and drank to the heroes' honour.

"Another toast!" Harry called over the crowd, little Albus wiggling against him on his hip. He found Teddy with his eyes and tipped his glass in the boy's direction. "To the new Harry Potter!" he said and winked at his godson. It occurred to Remus that Harry also knew Teddy had been upset by the book's outcome. He was sure to catch Harry's eye and received a little nod in return.

"Here, here!" everyone cheered.

Teddy grinned, cheeks turning pink as all eyes settled on him, but he sought his father's gaze. Remus felt his heart swell with love and pride, yet he found that all he could do to express it was give his son a small, lopsided smile. He hoped it would convey how happy he felt at this moment, that his son would understand as his wife wrapped her arms around his middle and pecked his jaw.

"And to the new Ginny!!" Ginny, very pregnant and due any day now, called over Harry's shoulder causing another eruption of laughter and renewed clinking of glasses.

This time, it was Teddy's _hair_ that turned pink.

The roar of laughter that followed rumbled through the ground beneath their feet as Nymphadora sprang forward grinning gleefully and wrapped her arms around her son amidst his protests. With a surge of strength, she lifted him off the ground against his will and spun around, laughing, her hair the vividest pink Remus had ever seen it. And he knew it would happen before it did, already prepared for the worst.

With a combined yell, mother and son tumbled to the ground, and Grandma Tonks' mouth fell open in surprise. "Nymphadora!" she admonished harshly. "You're abusing my grandson!"

But she needn't have worried. Lying flat on their backs, Teddy and Dora giggled uncontrollably as Remus approached them, hands in his pockets. He peered down at his wife with a smug smirk, obstructing her view of the sky.

Her laughter died away as she focused on his face, and a new light brightened her eyes as if shining from within. But just as quickly, she narrowed them at him, chiding, "Well, don't just stand there, Remus. Help me up!" She reached out, waiting for his arm.

"Yeah! Me too, Dad!" Teddy said, imitating his mother.

Knowing exactly what the two were planning, he stood between them and extended his arms, waiting.

With a thud, he landed on the ground between them, their laughter surrounding him, their mirthful faces upturned to see his reaction. Laughing with them all the while, he reached out with both arms and pulled them closer to him. Teddy struggled against his father's strong grip, squirming to get away while Dora helped, scooting towards him and reaching over his chest to muss Teddy's once again blue hair.

Hermione rushed waddling forward with her now ever-present camera and Rose at her ankles, gripping her leg. "Stay right there, you three!" she said excitedly. "Don't change a thing!"

Remus had no desire to change anything as she captured the image. He was unbelievably happy, surrounded by his family – the one in his arms and the very much larger, still-growing one encircling them, now chattering amongst themselves again. The strange, dismal weight that had settled in his chest two days ago with the reading of a simple sentence had lifted, vanished as suddenly as it had arrived. In a strange way, he appreciated the author's choice because this moment, this feeling would not exist without it.

The battle that had almost claimed his and Nymphadora's lives, that had almost made Teddy an orphan: it was the most difficult sentence he had ever read, acknowledging what so easily could have happened.

But it didn't happen. Nymphadora's breathy laughs were bouncing off his neck, her chest rising and falling against him, her lively eyes trained on the sky above. They were both alive, here with Teddy, raising him together, helping him grow, moulding him the best they could, and savouring every moment of it. Their son, who turned and gave him a great wide grin, no longer struggling to be free of the grasp Remus held him by. Yes, they were all alive, and he was so very thankful.

Staring up at the sky as the clouds drifted slowly by, a new happiness settled over him. How easily had the book's alternate outcome made him appreciate everything – every_one_ he had. It wasn't that he had yet to do so, but he had been given a gift: a way to see everything he could have lost, to see what could have been. And comparing that to what was… It truly was something to celebrate.

The End

**AN:** I'll be writing more in this ficverse, and the first sequel I'll be posting tomorrow. :) A thousand thanks to anyone who speaks up and tells me what they think!


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